


Set in Darkness

by kissyfacecas



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hannibal Loves Will, I'll add more tags as they come up, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Slow Burn, Will Loves Hannibal, buckle up folks this is gonna be a bumpy ride, but there WILL be porn so im warning u, but u already know will overthinks WAY TOO MUCH, is emotional hannibal a tag because it should be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-04 19:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10997562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissyfacecas/pseuds/kissyfacecas
Summary: “Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” — Sarah WilliamsIt was Hannibal who hauled the two of them from the harsh, unforgiving current of the Atlantic Ocean.





	1. Sink With Me

**Author's Note:**

> hello, my friends! 
> 
> this is officially my very first Hannigram fic (and yet I spend most my days reading them) and the title comes from an excerpt from a poem called The Old Astronomer to His Pupil by Sarah Williams (and it's my favorite poem of all time so I definitely recommend you checking it out. 
> 
> Im sorry if there are any mistakes but because I do not have a beta reader (but if you find any mistakes, please feel free to let me know) I did the best I could. 
> 
> If you enjoyed, perhaps leave a kudos or a comment will be greatly appreciated. 
> 
> Good day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr at hannigramstan.tumblr.com

> ”I weather it out with you, or I sink with you.“
> 
> — Walt Whitman,  _Great are the Myths._

 

* * *

 

It was Hannibal who hauled the two of them from the harsh, unforgiving current of the Atlantic Ocean and all but dropped Will onto the coarse sand before dropping to his hands and knees and rolled beside Will.

The two of them lain still for what Will felt was an eternity (but he knew was only but a few minutes) with the brackish water from the Chesapeake lapping at their ankles.

Will's throat burned with the taste of salt and something metallic on his tongue and it took everything in him to turn his head enough to cough up the water he'd managed to suck in on contact. It was there, with his head turned toward Hannibal as blood leaked from the gunshot wound The Dragon had inflicted that he knew the two of them were in sea deep shit.

Pushing himself up onto his hands, he pulled himself closer to the other man and pressed two fingers into the pulse point on his neck. His heartbeat was weak; too weak and the longer Will felt it, the longer he realized it was already fading.

"Hannibal," he muttered, his throat rough and so quiet he couldn't be sure if Hannibal had even heard him over the roaring waves. So, he tried again louder and this time Hannibal stirred.

He lifted his hand to grip Will's wrist so tightly -- even for a man Will was sure was the closest he'd even been to actually dying -- he thought there might be a bruise and his eyes flew open, alert. It wasn't until he met Will's that he relaxed his grip. "You're bleeding, Will." Hannibal muttered, his voice equally as worn.

Will could feel the steady trickle of warm blood flowing down his neck and soaking into his shirt so yes, he was bleeding but even in the moonlight Will could tell Hannibal was paling by the second and his lips shouldn't be that color so it'd have to wait.

"So are you," he nodded down toward Hannibal's blood soaked sweater. Most of The Dragon's blood had been washed away with the ocean so the steadily growing dark spot growing on Hannibal's sweater definitely wasn't a good sign. "How do I stop it?" He asked, meeting Hannibal's eyes again only for a moment.

Minutes ago, Will had been wholly prepared to give himself over to the sea and take Hannibal with him, but now. Now with Hannibal's breath becoming more shallow by the second Will wanted to join him for an entirely different reason -- he wasn't ready to take on the world _without_  Hannibal.

He'd given God or whoever else was out there every damn chance he could to take the two of them -- to save the World from their wrath and yet protect them from the World -- and yet the Chesapeake had spit them back out, like this was the plan all along and _damn_ _it_ Hannibal would not fucking die on this beach.

Will could see Hannibal's eyes from the corner of his own, still watching him and yet not entirely there, lolling closed every few moments. "I believe you should apply pressure to the wound, Will," he said, his accent thicker than Will knew it to be and yet he didn't sound urgent at all, like this happened to him everyday.

"And then, Hannibal? Where do we go? The FBI-" he started, his vision flicking upward toward the bluff and though the house was mostly out of view, he could still see the orange glow from the lights and as far as he could tell, no sirens or helicopters or police lights had made it up there yet. "We should get out of here before they get there."

Will stood to his knees and scooted further down to press his hands to the wound but his fingers were immediately covered in Hannibal's blood and yet, more blood still flowed freely into his already sticky sweater. The sound of the waves was drowned out by the pounding of his heart at that moment and he quickly removed and made quick work of his shirt, shrugging it off his aching shoulders and balling it up, using it to apply pressure.

When he was sure it was making-do, he allowed himself a glance up at Hannibal. His eyes were closed, his lips parted but his chest was still rising and falling so Will, too, let out a breathe he didn't realize he was holding. "Open your eyes," he said, loud enough he knew Hannibal would hear him and then, Hannibal's eyes fluttered open to find his.

"You look ravishing like this, Will. In the moonlight with blood on your hands," he whispered but Will was watching him so closely he could make out every word. "I hope to never forget you exactly like this."

Will could tell Hannibal was going to lose consciousness before his eyes actually slipped closed, he expected it with so much blood loss. It wasn't until Hannibal exhaled and didn't inhale again that he started to panic again. "Fuck," he mumbled to no one but himself and the sea.

Will knew CPR, it was a mandatory class the police department in New Orleans made him take yearly, and then even at Quantico.

 _Step one: Open the air way_. Will tilted Hannibal's head back against the sand and pulled his chin down.

 _Step two: check for breathing_. Will leaned over Hannibal's chest and pressed his cheek against his breast bone. There was a heartbeat but no rise and fall of his chest.

 _Step three: Push hard, push fast_. Will placed his hands one on top of the other on in the center of Hannibal's chest and using the weight of his body, delivered compression after compression counting under his breath.

 _Step four: deliver rescue breathes_. Will pinched Hannibal's nose closed and fitted their mouths together, watching Hannibal's chest from the corner of his eye as he blew as deeply as he could. When Hannibal's chest didn't rise with his own breath, he pulled away to reposition his head, tilting it as far back as he could and tried again. This time, Hannibal's lungs filled with his breath.

 _Step Five: Repeat until an EMS arrived on scene_. Only, Will knew the only people coming for them weren't the ones there to help Hannibal. He continued to deliver compressions and rescue breaths and hoped by some miracle Hannibal would take a breath on his own.

It wasn't until the tenth or eleventh round that Will's body began to turn against him, his arms getting weaker, thus slower and he debated throwing in the towel and laying down next to Hannibal until the FBI arrived to take him away. Jack would try to get him off the charges -- for murdering Dolarhyde and then throwing himself and Hannibal off a cliff, successfully murdering Hannibal too. He'd tell him to pled self-defense (they both were, after all, responsible for several serial murders) and he thinks the jury would believe him. Pity him, even and the thought alone made Will want to throw up again. He wasn't innocent in this. He killed Dolarhyde because he _wanted_ to, because he _liked_ killing with Hannibal and when -- because it was still a when in his mind, never an if -- he pulled himself and Hannibal off this beach, they'd do it again together. He thinks he'd finally like to tell Jack to fuck off and then he'd tell the jury how much he liked it. He'd tell them how he thought about kissing Hannibal before he pushed them over the edge and how much he regretted _not_ kissing him in the moments before the FBI arrived. He'd tell them if they let him walk free, he'd kill again because he now he has a taste for it and maybe that last part wasn't completely true because he didn't ever want to kill unless Hannibal was beside him but he'd love to see the look on Jack's face when the words left his mouth.

Will hadn't realized he'd started crying until he could again taste salt on the pad of his tongue, lighter than that of the water still licking at Hannibal's legs, almost as if it was teasing Will, threatening to pull him out to sea.

It was as if the Heavens opened up when Hannibal gasped for air on his own and then he was coughing and Will quickly helped him onto his side, pulling his arm straight to prop his head up. When Hannibal calmed his breathing, Will nearly felt dizzy with relief. He brushed the tears that had fallen against his cheeks, wiping away blood too and pulled Hannibal back on his back to look at him. "If you ever do that to me again, I think I might bring you back and kill you again." He said, leaning over Hannibal's face to be sure the man could understand him and Hannibal nodded his head once, as if he was too tired to open his mouth again. If he took noticed Will's bloodshot eyes in the moonlight he didn't acknowledge it; perhaps he was waiting until he could speak again (which gave Will time to come up with an excuse).

There was still the issue of Hannibal's GSW but when Will lifted his shirt and hiked up Hannibal's sweater the bleeding seemed to slow down. Will ignored the voice in the back of his head telling them that _maybe it's slowed down because there isn't enough blood left to_ _bleed_. He pressed his shirt back against the wound and stood up onto his knees to unbuckle his belt and pull it free. With some maneuvering and orders to _lift up a little_ and _roll_ _onto your side for a second_ he was able to position the belt over the shirt and fasten it tightly enough to hold pressure against the wound.

"Alright," he muttered, mostly to himself but Hannibal's chest was still rising and falling and his eyes were opened wide, watching Will closely -- if Will didn't know any better, he'd think Hannibal was worried. "This is the fun part."

Pushing himself up -- and grunting under his breath at the pain that spread across his clavicle -- he reached down, offering his hand to Hannibal. The man grasped it without second thought, using it and the help of Will's other hand to pull himself up until he was standing next to Will, leaning against him heavily. He could tell immediately Hannibal was favoring his right ankle and he cursed himself inwardly for not looking over his entire body to check for further injuries. Even if he had, there wouldn't have been anything he could have done to ease the pain for Hannibal either way.

Hannibal pointed toward the thick wooded area just before the beach and Will knew Hannibal well enough to not be surprised the man had prepared for every unseeable -- at least unseeable in his mind -- scenario.

The cabin was small, subpar even for Will's standards and he suspected it wasn't even a real cabin but something closer to a shed converted into a living space. When he pushed open the door with the arm not wrapped around Hannibal's middle, the room was completely dark and only when Hannibal reached out and felt around the wall for a switch did a round fluorescent light in the center of the the room illuminate the space. There was a single, modest bed pushed up against the back wall with flannel bed sheets haphazardly threw across it and a nightstand next to it, various items neatly laid across it. In the corner to Hannibal's left sat a makeshift bathroom -- nothing more than a 5 gallon paint bucket filled to the brim with what WI'll hoped to be freshwater and a porcelain washbasin. Next to the bucket was a gray cooler and lastly, a dirty reclining chair sat the the corner to his left.

He and Hannibal wobbled over toward the bed and he carefully helped him sit. "This yours?" he asked, raising a skeptical brow at Hannibal after he'd straightened to his full height, towering over him. Hannibal raised a challenging brow in return, leaning back on his hand and working to unclasp the belt.

"I asked an associate of mine to stock it in the event I'd need it. This isn't what I had in mind." Hannibal actually sounded mildly aggravated at the state of their current safe place. Will had have a mind to ask who this _associate_ was and if they'd be giving them a _visit_ when they were both well enough. But, when Hannibal let out a wince -- barely, but Will liked to think himself good at picking up the small twitches in Hannibal's face -- his joke was left unsaid and instead he pressed Hannibal back with a firm hand on his shoulder and the man complied, lying back against the bed.

"Will, do you see trauma shears on that table?" Hannibal asked and when Will nodded, reaching over for them and hanging them toward Hannibal, he didn't reach for them. "I can't very well cut off my own clothes when I'm trying to stop myself from bleeding out, can I?" he asked and coming from anyone besides Hannibal, Will would have found that sentence patronizing. But, it was Hannibal and it seemed he always kept his cool. Even when he'd went into cardiac arrest not even an hour ago apparently.

Will carefully but quickly cut up the front of Hannibal's sweater and then again up each sleeve until the once probably overly priced fabric slid off it and laid by his side. "And now a flashlight?" Hannibal asked, but Will was already reaching for it and clicking it on, trying to inspect the wound around Hannibal hand. "Will, grab a bandage and cover your wounds. When you've preformed my surgery, I'll clean the debris and suture them for you."

Hannibal watched him for a moment, blinking down at him. "Christ, Hannibal, I'm _not_ _performing_ _your_ _surgery_ ," he scoffed, but reached for the stack of large gauze bandages and ripped one open, reaching for the hand held mirror on the table to apply one over the  gaping wound over his cheek, and then another other his clavicle.

"I'll be here to help. I've asked my associate to procure a local anesthetic. However, your help would be greatly appreciated." His sentences were progressively more breathy and Will could tell the adrenaline had wore off and the pain was setting in full force. But still his hands shook at even the idea of cutting Hannibal open. "Will, please," Hannibal whispered, reaching up, with the hand that should be holding pressure to his wound to press his thumb against Will's uninjured cheek and Will nodded his head. "Good boy. Now, hand me the mirror and flashlight. I believe you broke my ribs whilst you gave me cardiopulmonary resuscitation so I must be very careful not to puncture my lung until we've wrapped it." He reached up behind him and grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under his head before taking the mirror and light from Will. "The bullet went through, however I believe it nicked the intestine but I can't fully assess until I'm in there." Hannibal spoke about it as if he wasn't speaking about his own damned body and Will needed to slow down his heartbeat before he bled out and left Hannibal for dead. "Hand me the needle, gauze, and isopropyl alcohol. It also wouldn't be a bad idea if you washed the sand from your hands before I disinfect them."

Will nodded his head quickly, racing open toward the washbasin and picking up the pitcher, scooping up the water and running it across each hand until it ran clear. By the time he was finished and turned around, Hannibal was finished disinfecting his wound, administering the local anesthesia, and he was now using a clean gauze with isopropyl alcohol to wipe down the scalpel. "It isn't ideal," he said when Will returned, placing his knee on the bed and leaning forward slightly to get a better look at the wound now that it had been mostly clear of the old blood. "But I suppose nothing is truly ideal under the circumstances." He held the isopropyl alcohol out toward Will and he disinfected his hands as thoroughly as he could.

When he was finished and set it aside, Hannibal held out the scalpel. "You must work fast to avoid infection, understand?" Hannibal asked with authority in his voice that made Will nod and take the scalpel. "Start here," he used his finger to indicate where exactly Will was to start cutting and Will obliged, his eyes flicking back and forth between the spot where the metal barely pressed against Hannibal's skin and Hannibal's eyes. "Open me, Will. Quickly." His voice sounded urgent and Will took a breath before he added a small amount of pressure and barely a trickle of blood poured out from where the tip pressed into Hannibal's skin. "That isn't enough, Will. Look at me." Will met his eyes again, holding his hand still despite the fact he thought it should be trembling. "My body is working very hard right now to keep me conscious but I have lost too much blook and I will not be awake for mUGH longer. I need to look inside so I may give you the appropriate steps to follow, okay?" Will nodded but his heart was pounding against his ribcage so rapidly he thought maybe it'd explode clean from his chest. "I'm unsure how long I'll be awake after you've opened me and we must use that time wisely. After I've passed out, I will need a blood transfusion and again, my associate has obtained enough blood for me. However, I fear you may need one too," as he spoke this, he reached up and tilted Will's face to the side and judging by the look on his face, he suspected it was already bleeding through the bandage. "Give me two of the four, and you take the other half after you've sutured yourself. Be sure to sterilize both wounds and then the needle. I must apologize in advance for not being awake to help you but I have the upmost faith you can handle it.

"I didn't asked for something advisable to wrap my ribs with so perhaps just lay me flat until I wake and then I'll assess from there. There's food, water, and a change of clothes in the cooler so please make use of those things. Do you understand?"

Will nodded but when Hannibal lifted his brows, he spoke. "Yes, okay. I understand."

Looking back down at the scalpel still pressed into Hannibal's skin, he took a deep breath. "Ready?" he muttered, but didn't wait for Hannibal to respond before he was applying pressure onto the knife and Hannibal's skin opened beneath it, blood pouring out onto the bed. Quickly Hannibal reached for the mirror and flashlight he'd laid next to him and positioned them until he could see better into his incision.

"Pull the skin back," he said and Will followed his order. "Okay, now grab the suture kit and listen closely." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was getting entirely too long AND I was worried the actual medical stuff was getting too boring (but I actually love details of surgeries so I couldn't completely forego them. However, if I used the incorrect term for anything, please let me know. (As I've learned sometimes the terms used in schools are different??)
> 
> Anyway, sorry if this was horrible but I've had this idea bouncing around for awhile and this is just kind of the SET up but I promise there will be more fluff, smut, and most importantly, angst. (I truly have a thing for Hannibal being kind to Will/honest and yet still being Hannibal so expect Emotional!Hannibal one minute and then Mizumono!Hannibal the next.)
> 
> Again, hope you enjoyed and please forgive any grammar/spelling errors. ): AND ONE MORE THING: the steps to CPR are basically what Will did, I had him skip the golden rule (call the emergency number for your country and THEN begin) but either way, please don't follow these so closely as I am not a medical professional (yet) and I would recommend actually taking a CPR class because it's very important and may save sometimes life someday or perhaps looking the steps up yourself.
> 
> P.S. Shirtless!Will cutting into Hannibal.....no wonder he passed TF out lmao


	2. The Wise and The Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will grumbled beside him and Hannibal watched from the corner of his eye as Will rolled his own. Yes, Hannibal concluded, Will is jealous. The information struck a cord in him and he wanted to see how far he could push Will before he would admit his jealously. But, that was for another time. Now, there was greater issues to resolve like getting them out of the country.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Follow me on Tumblr at hannigramstan.tumblr.com. (I'll probably follow you back.)

 

 

 

> ”Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely.“

— Edna St. Vincent Millay,  _Dirge Without Music_

 

* * *

 

 

When Hannibal was pulled from sleep it wasn't from insufferable pain, or even the FBI breaking down the door to lock him away again. Instead, it was Will's voice in his ear, whispering his name. Even in his half-conscious mind Hannibal could hear the dread in Will's voice and within seconds, his eyes were open and scanning the room for danger. 

 Will was curled up on the other side of the bed, his eyes closed and his eyebrows furthered against his forehead as shallow huffs of air were pulled from between his lips; he was having a nightmare, Hannibal realized. 

 Using the morning light seeping in through the sheer curtains hanging over the single window across the room Hannibal could clearly make out the bandage Will had secured against the incision across his abdomen. Carefully, he pealed back the bandage enough to look at Will's row of stitches. They were spaced too far part in some places and too close together in others and pulled tight enough for Hannibal to feel it when he moved but overall, Will did an exceptional job. 

There was an IV sticking into his hand -- and from what Hannibal could tell, it was stuck perfectly into his vein -- and leading all the way from his hand and up the tube was an empty blood bag hooked against the wall. Will did an exceptional job, indeed. 

As if the man could feel Hannibal's thoughts about him, he stirred in his sleep and Hannibal glanced at him once more, this time taking the time to observe him as well. 

Will had did as he had said, making use of the extra clothes he had asked for because he now wore a basic white tee-shirt, free of blood. Hannibal leaned over a bit, inspecting the bandaged on Will's cheek. Such a shame he hadn't been able to stitch it together himself; he would have relished in any excuse to touch Will so closely. _The neat scar would have probably helped the healing process too,_ he reminded himself. 

"Will," he whispered softly, reaching over and smoothing his thumb down the crease between Will's eyebrows. Apart of him wanted to sit and watch Will live his nightmare, pick apart exactly what was happening behind the man's eyes to better understand his brilliant mind. And yet, Hannibal fancied himself a quick learner and was clever enough to learn from his mistakes so instead he opted to wake him.

Will startled beside him, pulling away from his hand and sitting up in record time. "What? What happened?" he asked, his voice no higher than a mere murmur and yet, panicked. 

"Nothing is the matter, Will. I was worried you were having a nightmare and I thought it best to wake you," Hannibal said easily and watched as Will visibly relaxed. He let out a huff of relief and relaxed back against the headboard of the, frankly, awful bed and ran his fingers through his messily kept curls. "You were having a nightmare, then? Perhaps you'd like to talk about it?"

If Hannibal wasn't going to greedily take from Will's mind the information he wanted, he could at least ask for it and if he was very lucky, Will would give it to him. 

Will lifted his uninjured shoulder in a half shrug, trying to seem unconcerned but Hannibal has, in the past, watched Will enough to know that wasn't the case. "Don't remember it now." 

As he spoke, Will carefully swung his legs over the bed and pushed himself up, reaching out to hold onto the wall until Hannibal supposed his head stopped spinning. 

"Did you give yourself the blood transfusion like I asked?" He noted the lack of IV in Will and raised a eyebrow, though Will was shuffling over toward the cooler, his back to Hannibal. 

"You needed it more," he heard Will muttered as he open the chest cooler and pulled out two bottles of water and overly processed granola bars before making his way back over to the bed. "Can you sit up?" 

Instead of answering, Hannibal braced one hand against the poor excuse for a mattress and place the other against his stomach, as if to hold his fractured ribs in place but more so to aid off the pain and pulled himself up and against the headboard. 

"I don't suppose there was very much in the way of clothes?" he asked as Will slid in next to him, handing Hannibal the bottle of water and granola bar before open his own water and taking a large gulp. 

"Nope. I don't know who your _associate_ of yours is but this place is pretty shitty." 

Hannibal couldn't help but crack a smile at the emphasis Will put on the word associate and something in the pit of his stomach fluttered at the thought that perhaps Will is jealous. 

He hummed, eyes dancing across the shack as he pulled back the wrapper of the granola bar and took a bite, scrunching his nose. After he swallowed, he spoke. "There isn't many options in this area. None that the FBI wouldn't know about, at least. I suppose she did the best she could with the options laid out in front of her." 

Will grumbled beside him and Hannibal watched from the corner of his eye as Will rolled his own. _Yes,_ Hannibal concluded, _Will is jealous._ The information struck a cord in him and he wanted to see how far he could push Will before he would admit his jealously. But, that was for another time. Now, there was greater issues to resolve like getting them out of the country. 

"What are we gonna do about your ribs?" Will asked, changing the subject as quickly as he could manage. "You'll need something to wear if we wanna get anywhere without turning heads."

"Could you make it into town on your own?" When Will nodded, he continued. "I think something for the pain would be in order, an ace bandage or plastic wrap for my ribs and something for you and I both to change into. While you're away, I'll get our mode of transport ready." 

"Where are we gonna go?" Will asked before opening his bar and taking a bite. 

"I would like to make a stop in France before we decide on a more permanent location. Is that satisfactory?" 

Will nodded. 

\---

 After they both finished their granola bar and drank their waters in silence, Will allowed Hannibal to get a closer look at both the wound in his cheek and clavicle. The row of stitchs were roughly spaced and only after Will assured him multiple times that he'd made sure to clean it probably to prevent infection did Hannibal nod his approval and allow Will to pull back on his shirt. 

Will left for town shortly after, taking with him the money Hannibal had asked for, which had been stored at the bottom of the cooler in an envelope. 

While Will was out, Hannibal used the burner phone from the cooler to begin the arrangements for their get away. He'd decided it would be smart of them to drive into Quebec and then from there fly across the North Atlantic and into Paris. 

It was less than an hour later when Will walked back into the shed just as Hannibal was ending the phone call, carrying a brown paper bag. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, his eyebrows furthered together. "I think they're looking for us," he muttered as he stepped toward the bed, spilling out various articles of clothing, a bottle of over the counter pain killer, an ace bandage, a roll of plastic wrap in a cardboard box, and a box of the same granola bars they'd eaten this morning. 

"Did you get stopped?" Hannibal asked, laying the phone beside himself on the bed anf picking through the clothes Will had picked; two button ups and a plain pair of blue jeans for each of them. Certainly not something Hannibal would have picked for himself but it would do until he could properly buy himself something. Perhaps he could talk Will into wearing a proper suit. Hannibal would enjoy that greatly. 

Will shook his head and picked up the bottle of pain killers, dumping two out into his hand before popping them into his mouth. Hannibal watched closely as Will swallowed them dry, his Adam's apple bobbing in the process. "No, everything was quiet. Maybe the FBI is trying to cover their ass' and keep it out of the press. But, we should get out of here as soon as we can."

Hannibal hummed his approval. "I thought we'd make our way into Canada and then fly into France."

Will nodded and glanced down at Hannibal's chest. "We should wrap your ribs, you're bruising. I didn't know if the ace bandage would be enough, so I grabbed plastic wrap too."

Hannibal looked down at the large bruise spread out across his rips, poking around to decide where it hurt the most. "Could you help me stand?" he asked as he carefully swung his legs over the bed and within seconds Will was making his way over to his side, reaching out and helping Hannibal haul himself up. The dull pain he felt over his entire body was in an instant sharp and fiery and Hannibal couldn't help the wince that spread across his face. Will looked up at him with wide eyes, worry spreading across his features. "I believe at some point I must have sprained my ankle," he paused, using one hand to support himself with Will's shoulder and the other to tug up his pant leg just above his swollen and bruised ankle.

For a moment, Hannibal's mind filled with memeories of the night before; him holding onto Will and trying to fight the waves as they crashed over their heads, sending them deeper and deeper into water. He remembers trying to protect Will's body from the rock wall of the cliff as the waves slammed them into it after they'd finally broken the surface. He had used his foot to push off the wall to keep them afloat long enough to breath and the vague pain that blossomed from his ankle. He had barely felt the pain at the time over the sickening feeling he had felt in his stomach at the thought of Will slipping from his grasp and being swallowed up by the ocean. 

"Perhaps we can use the bandage for that and the plastic wrap for my ribs." Will nodded and after making sure Hannibal could support himself, he reached over the bed and grabbed the plastic wrap, handing it to Hannibal. "I'll need you to wrap it for me tightly," he said as he took it from Will, pealing back the starting piece and lining it up with the purpling bruises. 

Will did as Hannibal had asked, carefully walking around him as he tightly wrapped the plastic until Hannibal was content with the pressure before helping Hannibal remove his shoes and wrap his ankle. 

When they were both dressed and Hannibal had used the water from the bucket to wash away all the blood and dirt that had collected on his face over the last twenty-four hours, they packet up the last of the bottles of water and granola bars into the paper bag and headed out. Between Hannibal's blood dried into the sheets and his and Will's old clothes threw in the corner, it wouldn't take long for the FBI to realize they'd stayed the night here together if they ever found this place. But, neither of them cared much. 

\---

Stealing a car wasn't ideal -- it was far more likely they'd be stopped that way -- but their options were limited and if Hannibal was being candid with himself, almost nothing about any of this was ideal. Everything except Will making an escape with him. 

Hannibal stood watch as Will easily used a piece of scrap metal he'd found tossed away on the side of the road to unlock the door and then hotwired it in record time. The parking lot was nearly empty -- despite it only being past 1 PM -- and they were easily able to pull out without being seen. 

The drive to the broader was no more than 15 hours without stops but they'd both prefer to get there as soon as possible so they decided to take turns and drive through the night. Will opted to go first. 

It was around hour 6 of the drive and nearly 7 o'clock, according to the clock on the radio when Will touched his shoulder, shaking gently to wake him up. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep. "My turn?" he asked, blinking sleep from his eyes as he straightened himself out, careful to make slow movements to avoid the sharp pain of his ribs. 

Will nodded his head and pushed open his door and stepping out. The sun had long since set and the cars headlights let Hannibal know they were parked on the side of a byroad. 

Following Will's lead, he climbed from the car and into the drivers seat as Will took his. With that, they were on the road again. 

"Why are we going to France first?" Will asked, not long after Hannibal had pulled back onto the interstate. "Where are we gonna go after?"

"There's something I need to obtain in Paris. I was thinking perhaps Rio. Have you ever been to Brazil, Will?" he paused, glancing at him long enough to see him shake his head no. Will was purposely watching the road ahead of them, or eyeing the passing cars and trees beside them. He was avoiding looking at Hannibal at all costs. "Neither have I. Perhaps we should both start practicing our Portuguese." 

Instead of replying, Will simply nodded his head once and leaned his head against the glass of the window, letting his eyes fall closed. 

Hannibal was many things but ignorant wasn't one of them. It wouldn't take much in the way of his wits to deduce something was pestering Will. For a moment, he debated asking the man what was on his mind but he quickly brushed that thought away for fear of what Will's answer may be. 

Perhaps it was because Will still wish the two of them dead or perhaps he now regretted bring _Hannibal_ back from the dead. Or maybe he wished he had died and could care less about what happened to Hannibal either way. 

But, Hannibal pushed these thoughts out of his mind. No use dwelling on speculation until Will was ready to express himself; for all Hannibal knew, he was merely be exhausted. So, instead he let the conversation dissolve into the tension around them and stayed quiet. 

\---

The sun had barely started to rise by the time they pulled up close enough to the border to walk there, but not far enough for someone to alert to their stolen car. 

Shortly after their conversation had ended, Will had dozed off but as soon as Hannibal shit off the engine, he was startling awake. It took a few moments for his sleep-hazy mind to catch up with his surroundings but when he did, he turned toward Hannibal with wide eyes. 

"I don't have a passport," he whispered, as if he'd just realized. 

"Yes, I thought of that. My associate is to have someone meet us here with our passports and new identities. They should be arriving at any moment." After he'd explained this to Will, they both climbed out from the car and began walking toward the checkpoint. 

A few moments later, an older man with tan skin and graying hair stepped up to them. "Hannibal Lecter?" he asked, keeping his voice quiet to prevent anyone from overhearing them. But, no one seemed to be paying attention either way. 

Will tensed beside him and from the corner of his eye he could see Will reaching toward his hip for a gun he wouldn't find. Hannibal wondered what Will would have done if he had had a gun on his hip; perhaps he would have shot the man. 

"Indeed," Hannibal nodded, pulling his thoughts away from Will long enough to take the passports the man offered. Without saying another word, the man turned on his heel and scurried away. 

"Do you know him?" Will asked once Hannibal had began inspecting them. He opened Will's first and was met with the photo the FBI had taken for his badge. 

"He works for my associate." As he spoke, he handed the passport over to Will, who opened it and looked at it for himself. 

"Who even is this associate you keep talking about? And that man knows who you are, your new name, and that you're headed into Canada. How do you know he won't talk?" 

"You'll know soon enough. I have the uppermost faith that he will not have the chance to talk." Before Will had a chance to respond, Hannibal was stepping up into line, Will following behind him. 

"Someone's going to kill him," Will said, under his breath so the people falling into line behind him couldn't hear. "Someone's going to kill him for delivering your passport." His voice didn't sound panicked, though Hannibal noted the traces of shock. 

"And yours."

\---

Getting into Canada was just as easy as he had expected; their passports didn't raise any red flags. The patrol asked them very few questions and when their answers seemed truthworthy enough, they were allowed through. 

"Our plane leaves tomorrow morning at 6," Hannibal said after he waved down a taxi and told the driver to take them to the nearest hotel. "We should rest until then." It was barely past 6 AM now but they'd land in Paris no later than midday and Hannibal had plans for the night they arrived. 

The taxi dropped them off at a nice enough hotel and Hannibal tipped the cabbie generously. "We're gonna run out of money if you keep throwing it away on taxi drivers and lavish hotels," Will muttered as they stepped into the lobby, the bellhop nodded at them with a friendly smile and Hannibal returned it. 

"We have plenty of money, Will. When we find a more permanent residence, I'll have a credit card mailed for the both of us." 

"I'm sure they've frozen your funds, Hannibal." 

"Yes, I'd imagine the accounts they know of are unacessable. However, I had prepared for something like this many years ago and I have others they are none the wiser about." Will watched him dumbfoundly for a few minutes before shaking his head and looking away. 

"I'm gonna go find a restroom while you deal with this," he muttered, leaving Will at the front desk just as a young woman stepped up to the other side, her teeth on full display in a wide smile. 

"Hello, sir. A room?" she asked as she started up the computer on the front desk. 

"Yes, please. Is it alright if I pay cash? It seems I've misplaced my credit card at the airport," he forged the most convincing mock frown he could -- which, for Hannibal was very convincing -- and he watched as the woman's smile dropped, matching his own. 

"Oh, my," she shook her head in pity. "But, yes. Cash is okay. One bed or two?" 

"One, please." She nodded and began typing away on her computer. 

By the time Will returned from the restroom, Hannibal had paid for their room and was standing by the elevator with the room key in hand, wanting for Will to join it. 

After the elevator dinged and the doors open, Hannibal pressed the 5th floor button. 

"How much cash do we have left?" Will asked once the doors were closed again, leaning against the wall of the elevator. 

"Enough to last until France. Why do you ask?" 

"Room service." Will glanced at him and rolled his eyes at Hannibal's vexed expression. "What, were you planning to cook?" His tone was laced with sarcasm and Hannibal almost wanted to be annoyed with him back but just as he opened his mouth to defend himself, Will's mouth was spreading into a wide grin and he couldn't find it in himself to irritated. "I don't care what you say, I'm still ordering room service." 

When the doors open again, they made their way toward their room and Will stood back as Hannibal unlocked the door. 

The room was decorated simple and modern, with nothing more than a large bed, two nightstands with a lamp on one and a phone on the other, and a simply round table with two chairs pushed under it. The bed in the center of the room was neatly made and the curtains were drew back, allowing light to pour in. The view outside wasn't spectacular, but they were only staying the night so he couldn't complain. 

"One bed?" Will muttered from behind him and Hannibal turned to watch him slip off his shoes. 

"I'm afraid this was the only available room," he lied easily, following Will's lead and removing his on shoes. Will raised his brows at Hannibal and the look on his face told Hannibal Will knew the truth. But, he didn't say anything else and instead fell back onto the bed, letting out a pleased sigh. 

"I'm gonna fall asleep," he muttered as Hannibal stepped over toward the other side of the bed, stopping to pull the curtain closed and successfully blocking out most of the sunlight before laying down next to Will with far more grace than the latter had managed. "But as soon as I'm up, we're ordering room service."

It was nowhere near time to sleep and yet Hannibal could feel the promise of it behind his eyelids. When he looked over at Will, he watched the man's eyes flutter closed and Hannibal allowed himself to relax further into the bed, his eyes closing. His injuries were starting to dully throb again but he actively chose to ignore them. 

"Probably waffles or something. With extra maple syrup because we're in Canada" Will said, his voice starting to fade off as sleep overtook him and it wasn't long before Hannibal was joining him. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was getting entirely too long AND I was worried the actual medical stuff was getting too boring (but I actually love details of surgeries so I couldn't completely forego them. However, if I used the incorrect term for anything, please let me know. (As I've learned sometimes the terms used in schools are different??) 
> 
> Anyway, sorry if this was horrible but I've had this idea bouncing around for awhile and this is just kind of the SET up but I promise there will be more fluff, smut, and most importantly, angst. (I truly have a thing for Hannibal being kind to Will/honest and yet still being Hannibal so expect Emotional!Hannibal one minute and then Mizumono!Hannibal the next.) 
> 
> Again, hope you enjoyed and please forgive any grammar/spelling errors. ): AND ONE MORE THING: the steps to CPR are basically what Will did, I had him skip the golden rule (call the emergency number for your country and THEN begin) but either way, please don't follow these so closely as I am not a medical professional (yet) and I would recommend actually taking a CPR class because it's very important and may save sometimes life someday or perhaps looking the steps up yourself. 
> 
> P.S. Shirtless!Will cutting into Hannibal.....no wonder he passed TF out lmao


End file.
